The White Gloves
by Iris Musicia
Summary: AU: The White Gloves are an ace gang of high-class thieves at the top of their game until a new thief gang moves in and tries to overthrow the Gloves. Gang war ensues, but the real winner of the war must steal the coup-de-gras of all thievable objects.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: the usual, wishing I owned, yadda yadda.**

**Full Summary: AU: The White Gloves are an ace gang of high-class thieves at the top of their game until a new thief gang moves in and tries to overthrow the Gloves. Gang war ensues, but the real winner must steal the coup-de-gras of all thievable objects: the Glass Flower. Crime, adventure, minor romance. Slight Kurtty, Jott. Possible Humor at the end.**

**A/N: this comes from a story-stub (part of a story) that me, my sis, and my friend Taryn came up with listening to a song on the way back from the Loudoun County Fair. Enjoy.**

**Prologue**

The red convertible raced along the winding road, the sea waiting obediently on the right, all the way down two hundred feet of sheer cliff. The driver of the car, a young woman, pulled off her headscarf and glanced in the rearview mirror, squinting through her sunglasses at the bright California , a huge glowing, white, red, and black explosion appeared on the horizon. She smirked. Job well done. Then she caught sight of the three cop cars screaming around the corner half a mile behind her.

She laughed, thinking how they'd never find her. The plan was flawless as well as foolproof against any blunders or the cops. As the sign warning appeared, indicating a 90 degree turn, the young woman shrugged off her coat, unbuckled her seatbelt, and braced herself. The car flew straight off the road, hidden from sight by the turns of the road from the cops.

The woman had precious few seconds to deploy her parachute before the car would hit the water and she would be killed. The parachute, a steely grey-blue, snapped open and jerked her up, out of the car, and drifting along the coastline. Faintly, she heard the crash of the car hitting the water, which at that speed and height, would be like cement. The squealing of tires way back indicated the cops had seen the last part of her performance. They wouldn't see her slip away down to a small beach and disappear.

Down in the water, the woman's accomplice waited for the car to crash, so he could go in and grab the money. He checked the regulator and the waterproof watch on his wrist. The car should be coming any minute now. He glanced up and scrambled to get out of the way as the car erupted into the water. The accomplice swam over, searching through the crumpled backseat and grabbing the many bags of money, replacing the bags with fake moneybags. They were almost too heavy, but he made it to the beach where the woman waited.

"Do they suspect?" the accomplice asked as he shrugged off his scuba and flippers. The woman shook her head.

"For all they know, I committed suicide with five million dollars in the backseat. They'll send a dive team down and find the fakes—you put them in, yes? Good. We'll be headlines this time tomorrow." The woman said, taking two of the bags. She held out her hand.

"Take us home, Kurt." The two disappeared, the only evidence: a parachute, scuba, and footprints in the sand.

**Yes, an agonizingly short chap, but that's why I put the second chap up right away. I've taken a liking to prologues . . . so anybody with questions like "What just happened?" just read the 2****nd**** chapter.**


	2. Star of David

**Disclaimer: WIO (wish I owned)**

**Star of David**

As the woman and her accomplice, Kurt, reappeared at CC, command central, and put the money down, they split apart and went to review surveillance tapes or change.

"How's your first gig?" Kurt was asked as he came out of his room wearing sweats and a black tee. He looked around to see Evan reviewing pre-robbery tapes. He took his headphones off and swiveled around to look at Kurt.

"Pretty good, really. It vas not fun, per-se, but better zan being here at CC." Kurt answered coming over to sit in his chair next to Evan's.

"Tech support is the pits. I had to watch, like, seven hours of Jean and Kitty and you casing the place. I mean, I think I fell asleep when Jean started flirting with the teller." Evan was bitter because this robbery had been an NFN, White Glove lingo for "no force needed," meaning Evan had to sit this one out and be tech support with Scott. Evan and Scott had "violent" abilities—Evan grows and throws bone spikes, and Scott shoots searing hot red lasers out of his eyes.

"I _vanted _to fall azleep in ze vater, but I couldn't. I vas vondering vat took so long." Kurt said, and Evan shook his head.

"Man, we've _got_ to get rid of that accent of yours. You sound like you came fresh from Germany."

"Hey, may I point out, _man_, zat I am fresh from Deutschland! I've only been viz you guys for vat, two, maybe zree veeks? Give me a break!" Kurt cried in exasperation, throwing his hands up in the air as Rogue stormed into CC.

"Did _sahmone_ forgat ta pick me up? Hm, ah wander!" Rogue spat at the German.

"Hey, sorry, Rogue! I forgot!" Kurt held his arms above his head to protect himself from assault by the angry Mississippi girl, who rained gloved blows on his arms, sometimes hitting his head or shoulder.

"D' – ya – _know_ – haw – _far_ – it – is – fram – tha – gig – ta – here?" Rogue demanded in between blows. Kurt yelped an "I don't know".

"_Way too far!_" Rogue turned on her heel and stomped out of the round tech room down the metal hall to her room. Kurt and Evan winced simultaneously as they heard her door slam viciously hard. Though, as Rogue disappeared, Jean and Kitty appeared.

"Whoa, like, what happened to Rogue?" Kitty asked, looking over her shoulder at the door.

"I forgot to pick her up and she had to valk home," Kurt muttered, rubbing his bruised forearms.

"She teaches quick, doesn't she? I doubt you'll forget next time." Jean smirked, walking over to help Scott analyze the tapes. Evan had put his earphones back on, but stopped the tape he was working on and took his earphones off.

"Hey Jean! Why do we even have to watch these stupid tapes? You blew the place!" he shouted across the room. Jean turned slowly.

"These tapes were recorded and sent immediately to a backup facility in Washington, so there's still a copy out there. We need to watch these to make sure there's no evidence of us up until the blast. Then the tapes end." Jean added nastily.

"It doesn't bozzer you zat you blew up dozens of innocent people?" Kurt asked heatedly.

"No, not really. We got the job done, we got our money, yes?" Jean answered, smirking evilly at Kurt's outraged look. "_JOKING_," she blurted. "Everyone was out when I blew that joint."

"You _absolutely _sure?" Kurt asked suspiciously.

"Kurt, chill. I'm a telepath. I would've known if there was anybody in that bank. Why, particularly, do you want to know?" Jean replied.

"I vanted to know if I should pray for anybody's soul," Kurt answered, averting his eyes.

"You never said you were religious, man." Evan commented with a small amount of surprise.

"Look, Kurt, we may be thieves—high class thieves—but we're not homicidal maniacs. Sure, a security guard here or there that may have known too much, but that's just part of the job application. You knew that when you joined the White Gloves." Scott supplied. He stopped his last tape. "We're clean, no footage of the robbery. Kitty took the cameras out just right."

"Good. Evan, up and out. I'll start dinner." Jean started down the hall to the kitchen.

~*X*~

The next morning, after Kurt had brought the papers in – they subscribed to three national newspapers, and four local ones, to make sure nobody had found out and keep tabs on other thief gangs – they were headlines on three of the four locals, and had a whole article at the back of one of the nationals, "commemorating" their fortieth robbery.

"Kurt, give us the headlines," Scott requested. Kurt pulled out two of the locals in each hand, the third in his tail.

"_Vite Gloves Destroy Coastline Bank, No Casualties In Latest Vite Glove Strike, _und _Five Million Stolen By Vite Gloves_. Ze national article heads _Yet Anozzer Perfect Robbery Of Ze Vite Gloves._ Ve seem to be very media-friendly, ja?" Kurt read, and looked up at the other White Gloves members.

"Scan the national article – see if they mention any names." Jean said, stirring her cereal. Kurt plopped down in his chair across from Kitty, scooting back and crossing his ankles on the table.

A few phrases jumped out at him, but nothing major.

"Small group of high-class zieves . . . famous for no-casualty robberies . . . robberies nationally . . . stolen art, jewelry, money, technology . . . named Vite Gloves for zeir flawlessly evidence-less crime scenes vere zey leave a crime scene . . ." Kurt muttered. "Nope. You guys really get around! So, tell me, vy not just blow up ze crime scene all ze time?"

"It might be historic, or have nice architecture," Jean said.

"Or be in a highly populated area, or we might just be stealing one item and leaving the other items intact," Scott added.

"Sometimes we know the owner of the place we're robbing and don't want to ruin them," Kitty supplied.

"And sometimes we just want to drive the cops insane. We must have so many cold case files," Evan laughed. Rogue marched in at that moment and poured herself a moody bowl of cornflakes.

"Wow. Zat's pretty . . . cool, I guess. So, how did you all get into zis zieving business?" Kurt asked conversationally.

"Scott and I worked for the CIA, but retired. Well, not really retired, but made it look like we were assassinated on a mission to Afghanistan. Both of us are trained in jujitsu [1] and self-defense, and work well gathering intel. My mutant abilities lended me well to espionage. Scott just liked the glamour. We were partners on the Afghanistan mission, but there we decided that it would be more lucrative to sell intel rather than just report it, so we had the whole sniper thing set up, and I planted a few false memories in "eyewitness'" minds. Easy as pie, and nobody would suspect us." Jean explained. Scott nodded, but kept shoveling eggs and toast into his mouth.

"Yeah, and whayle they wahr tourin' the US under new aliases, they mayt me. Ah'd run away from home, an' was workin' with the Thieves' Guild in Mississippi. Thieves' Guild is baby compayred to this. Plus, ah was only a for-hayre thief, so I didn't get payed much. Jean an' Scott gave me the ahpportunity to start a new lahfe." Rogue commented through a mouthful of cornflakes. Kurt nodded appreciatively. At least Rogue had seemed to have forgiven him.

"After their first robbery, they were still little stuff on the thief gang scene," Evan started. "A few more flawless robberies, and Jean, Scott, and Rogue had made local headlines in my neck o' Chicago as the White Gloves 'cuz apparently the cops took white gloves to the place, and didn't even find a speck of dust, the crime scene was so clean. The only thing wrong was the missing artworks on the walls. After they got their name, I tried to find them. I'd hang out at night at possible targets – my parents thought I suddenly took an interest in art. Finally, one night, I got real lucky. Rogue was doing a solo gig to steal some fancy jewelry, and I caught the scruff of her jacket on a spike. Like I said, real lucky. I kinda begged, but they let me in."

Kitty stayed quiet, eating her fruit salad. Kurt took his feet off the table and leaned toward her. "How'd a little Kätzchen like you get into a dangerous pack of zieves?"

"It wasn't voluntary. My mother owns a Jewish Holocaust Museum in upstate New York. We'd just gotten a new exhibit – a pure gold Star of David, crafted by liberated Holocaust survivors. It was gorgeous – but horrible. About two feet in diameter, it had all these people carved into it, all like skeletons, suffering and screaming. It was just entrancing to watch as it rotated in its new case, the lights just sparking off the carvings. I stayed in the museum one night to watch it, and when the White Gloves came to steal it, they stole me too." Kitty said quietly, rubbing her thumb over a small gold Star of David on a chain she had pulled out of her shirt.

"But vat did you do viz ze Star?" Kurt asked, turning to the others. Evan looked away, Rogue glared at her cornflakes, and Jean stayed silent.

"Melted it down into gold ingots and sold it." Scott said quietly. Kurt's anger boiled inside him. How could they do that to such a sacred artifact?

"I begged them not to. They wouldn't listen. They said it was for the money. I mean, they let me have this Star. Jean made it out of some of the gold of the big Star." Kitty responded softly, her eyes still on her salad.

"You could have sold it to a collector! Zose private collectors pay millions for zings like zat!" Kurt said hotly.

"Cool it, hot stuff! We were working for a client, and they wanted gold, not a Jewish artifact. We had to melt it." Scott said, his voice becoming heated.

"Both of you, chill! What's done is done! We can't reverse the past!" Jean interrupted the brewing fight, glaring hard at both of the boys. Kurt leaned back slightly, keeping his blazing gold eyes on Scott's shades. There was an uncomfortable silence for several minutes, in which Kitty excused herself from the table, a tear running silently down her cheek, taking her fruit salad with her to her room.

Kurt crossed his arms. _Now look what you've done_, the German thought venomously. _You've upset her. She can't be older than fifteen. _He proceeded to cuss Scott out and damn him to Hell in German several times, until Jean couldn't bear his dark thoughts any longer.

"Look, Kurt, stop it! You're being childish. I understand you're upset, but _let it go_! Really now! There's no need to hate people that much!" Jean said, her voice higher than its normal pitch.

"Yes zere iz. He's a filzy rotten zief—" Kurt started saying, his eyes darkening, before Jean interrupted him.

"And look at you! You're no better, you're part of the White Gloves too!" her voice shot up two octaves. Rogue and Evan exchanged a worried glance and quickly bowed out of the kitchen. "You know what, I'll just let you two sit there until you stop wanting to _kill_ each other!" Jean shouted shrilly, turning on her heel and stomping out of the kitchen.

Kurt's eyes bored into Scott's as they entered a staring match. Scott's eyes watered behind his shades, but he kept them open, confident Kurt could see his eyes. Moments later, Kurt blinked and averted his gaze.

"You know vat, zis iz stupid. I von't get into a fight about ze Lord viz an _azeist_ like you." Kurt said snidely, eyes flicking back up to Scott's before he teleported away. Scott's eyes really watered as the brimstone smoke hit them.

"Absolutely brilliant, Kurt. You ruined breakfast," Scott muttered harshly, looking to blame other than himself. If this was what it would be like to have the new German on the team, Scott was going to have to eliminate him before he caused the breakup of the White Gloves.

~*X*~

**[1] Google it if you don't know what jujitsu is. But basically, it's pretty vicious martial arts, what my dad was doing when he broke his knee. Pretty awesome, though, too.**

**Reviews much appreciated, but no chapter 3 until I have at least 3.**


	3. The Swastika Tattoo

**Disclaimer: WIO**

**The Swastika Tattoo**

As Kurt 'ported into the common room, he caught the tail end of a conversation and Kitty put the phone down.

"We've got a client. She's willing to pay three mil for secrets. Jean, you're up." Kitty said brusquely, all traces of the shy, emotionally raw young girl in the kitchen gone.

"What sort of secrets?" Jean asked, putting her magazine down. Apparently, she had come here to wind down.

"Military. She wants the plans to the latest GITMO prisoner interrogation system." Kitty said.

"Pack up, everyone, we're headed to Cuba." Jean exited swiftly, followed by Rogue and Kitty. Evan went off down another hallway, with Kurt in pursuit.

"Vat are ve packing?" Kurt called ahead to Evan, who had gone into working mode, devoid of all emotion, just like the rest of the team.

"Anything you'll want in Cuba that fits in a briefcase. Pack your swords. This's gonna be MFR." Evan said, turning sharply into his room. MFR meant Maximum Force Required. Everyone was going to Cuba – no tech support in California meant flying blind, but this was a violent raid with possible casualties. Very obvious, no need for deception and observation.

Even though Kurt was the newest – newest, but not youngest – member of the White Gloves, he knew enough to move fast or get left behind, and on his first MFR gig with permission to use his swords, he wanted to go. Badly. Cause some damage.

Behind him, Kurt heard Scott stomping down the hall to his room and Kurt scrambled to get out of the way, ducking into his room and pulling out the extra-long, black leather briefcase that was the only thing that fit his twin light swords, but even then, just barely. He had to put them diagonally. Kurt packed no clothes, only weapons.

When he came out into the hallway, at the same time as Evan, he had a briefcase with his two Starfire light swords, Blitz and Blut, four Ekiz 8" daggers that he would later strap to his ankles and forearms, and, if all other swords failed, eight 6" throwing knives that found their home in holsters on Kurt's thighs, chest, and upper arms.

"Blitz and Blut are thirsty," Kurt commented, smiling evilly. Evan looked over at him, confusion breaking his emotionless mask.

"Dude, how many knives have you picked up since we found you in Virginia?" he asked, shaking his head.

"None. I've had my swords since I finished training, and my daggers and knives vere various birzday presents from "friends" who know I like knives," Kurt said. He set his jaw in resolve as he reached the end of the corridor. The girls were already packed in the common room, surveying Kurt and Evan coldly, who returned the gaze with equal iciness. Kurt set his case down and pulled out his knife and dagger holsters and sheathes, strapping the dagger sheathes to his forearms and lower legs, which were actually his feet, since he walked on the balls of his elongated, two-toed feet, it appeared that he had backwards-facing knees, but they were really his heels. As he buckled the knife holsters onto his upper arms, thighs, and waist, he caught Kitty looking intently at him.

When his golden eyes flicked upwards to meet hers, though, she looked away, absorbed in her forearms. Kurt could see the outline of daggers strapped to her arms in a double-draw style, just like his daggers. He smirked as he put the various deadly weapons in their cases on his body, watching Evan's wide eyes. Kurt shrugged his trench coat on, with slits in the right places so he could draw his weapons.

Scott stomped down the hallway, his shades switched to a visor he could open more easily, offering more control than the shades, too.

"Let's get outta here." He grumbled as he stormed past. Kurt bared his fangs, but followed Scott.

~*X*~

The six fit themselves into the SUV in the underground garage and drove (Scott completely ignoring the speed limits) along the same cliffside route Jean had taken to escape the cops, except this time in the opposite direction to the airport. Kitty sat in the way back with Rogue, quietly staring out the window. Kurt was in the middle with Evan, and of course, Jean and Scott in the front seats. As they passed the ruin of Coastline Bank, Kurt couldn't help but smile demonically- it made him happy to see things blown up, for some strange reason. Probably because of his messed-up childhood, with his pyromaniac foster mother and father.

"Evan, how old is everyvone?" Kurt leaned over and asked quietly so only Evan would hear.

"Well, Jean and Scott are 'bout twenty five, Rogue's nineteen, turning twenty next month, I'm twenty and Kitty's fifteen. Why?" Evan replied in an equally hushed voice.

"Just vondering." Kurt tried to dismiss Evan.

"You know, you never told us your story at breakfast. And when did you become such a master at blades—and just how old _are_ you?" Evan asked, a note of slight suspicion creeping into his voice.

"As you know, I come from Germany, but I vas in Virginia visiting a Freundin—a girl I trained in Bavaria viz. Zen I learned about thief gangs, and she suggested I join ze best gang—ze Vite Gloves. So I did. Jean seemed kvite inclined to let me in easily. I learned ze art of svordfighting ven I vas eight, and picked up nife zrowing ven I vas fourteen. Hand-to-hand combat came at fifteen, zen hand-to-hand viz daggers. I alzo studied martial arts. It vas easier for me zan ozzers—my spine is like a cat's, sehr flexible. I can vield a dagger, svord, or zrow a nife as easily viz my tail as I can viz my hands. Plus, I know how to use my body and teeth as veapons. All zat in zis devilishly handsome look and I'm tventy vone." Kurt answered quietly, baring his teeth in a gruesome smile. Evan leaned back as he realized just how dangerous his fellow thief was—he made Scott in a rage look tame, and Jean at full power look like a cripple, also totally outshining him, Rogue, and Kitty put together.

As they neared the airport and got out of the car, Kurt didn't even appear uneasy, though he clearly stood out.

"The jet taking us to Cuba's at the first gate on the left. Departs in five minutes." Jean directed, ushering the five towards the gate. There was no flight attendant to punch their tickets or anything—they just walked onto the luxury private jet and the pilot prepared for takeoff minutes later.

"Vow. I've never been on a plane in ze air zis fast," Kurt commented appreciatively. "Who's paying for our ride?"

"The client. As long as we deliver her info, she gives us three million in cash and we disappear." Kitty said. Kurt nodded, avoiding her eyes as he took out a dagger, ran his thumb over the sharp edge, and examined the cut it made in the pad of his finger.

"What did ya do that fer? Ya emo or somethin'?" Rogue asked pointedly.

"If I can feel ze blade cut my skin, it's too dull." Kurt said absentmindedly as he fished a whetstone out of his briefcase and rasped it along the blade a few times.

"Do yer swords eva get dull?" she asked, seeing Blitz and Blut in the case.

"Nein. Zey're a special metal alloy called adamantium zat's ze hardest metal known to mankind and vill cut zrough anyzing and never get dull. Blitz and Blut vere presents from my svordfighting instructor ven I graduated." Kurt answered, repeating the sharpening test with his other three daggers, using his tail the other times. Kitty shuddered as she smelled blood and glared at Kurt. What sort of person would cut themself for fun?

"I know, you zink I'm not holy. Oh, believe me, kleine Kätzchen, I am," Kurt chuckled darkly, spying the look on Kitty's face. She moved to the other side of Rogue to be farther away.

"He says he's holy, but look at him. He's a demon. What do Catholics do? Baptism, right? Well, no Father in his right mind would baptize that creature." Kitty hissed in Rouge's ear. She saw a dark emotion flicker across Kurt's bright eyes, and when he looked at her, she shrank back into the seat because he had no pupils. You couldn't tell where he was looking, but you knew.

"I didn't alvays look like zis. I vas _made_ zis vay by vone of you—a Jew,"[1] Kurt growled lowly, and Kitty's eyes widened in shock and anger.

"Typical of a German to say. Always against Jews, you filthy Germans," Kitty shot back, but by now, Kitty and Kurt's argument had all the others' attention, though they didn't intervene.

"Are you saying I'm a Nazi?" Kurt growled, standing up and stepping closer to Kitty, towering over her. "I beg to differ."

"You're nothing _but_ a Nazi. Think you're all that, I bet you have a swastika tattoo—" Kitty didn't get to finish her sentence because Kurt had backhanded her across the face. Scott jumped up and grabbed Kurt's arms, throwing back into his seat. Rogue flew to Kitty's aid along with Evan, and she shot a dagger look to kill at Kurt, pinned into his seat by Scott, fangs bared defiantly, eyes blazing.

Kitty lay on the floor, tears streaming from her eyes, holding her jaw, nothing short of pure loathing in her tearful gaze. Rogue turned around to face the German.

"What did ya do? Ya demon!" she hissed, eyes reduced to slits in anger.

"I broke her jaw. Serves ze little bitch right," Kurt snarled. Rogue ripped off her gloves and leaped at Kurt, but Jean froze her in midair just as she would have landed on her target and been impaled by the dagger he had ripped out of his arm sheath and was holding in his tail.

"This is no place to fight. I want all of you to stop it, so help me, I'll open the plane window and leave you to the elements," Jean barked. Kurt bared his teeth at Rogue and but the dagger away, albeit reluctantly.

"I'll see you in Cuba." Kurt said shortly. There was a loud crack and he, his swords, and his attitude had disappeared. [2]

"We can't have him on the team. He needs to be eliminated." Scott said shortly, reiterating the idea that had been running through his head since the fight at breakfast that morning. "Two fights he's started today, and he's broken Kitty's jaw."

"We can't terminate him yet. We need him for GITMO. After that, feel free to kill him." Jean said, eyes narrowed at the dissipating smoke from Kurt's teleportation.

As Kitty lay on the floor, in pain, one phrase whispered in her head.

_I know who you are_.

~*X*~

**[1] I'm going with what I wrote in P&F and saying Magneto made Kurt that way, and this is AU, so in this, Magneto's a Jew. **

**[2] Again, this is AU, and there's such a thing as suspension of disbelief, so let's just say he can teleport from somewhere over Arizona to Cuba.**

**Now, you were good and fast for this chap, but I request at least 5 reviews! I know you want chapter four . . . !**


	4. Blitz and Blut

**Disclaimer: WIO**

**Blitz and Blut  
**

As the White Gloves landed at a private airstrip in Guantanamo Bay, Jean had put a fix on Kitty's jaw using telekinesis to –painfully –fuse the shattered jawbone back together. They took a disguised car to the motel, the temporary CC so shabby that nobody would think to find such high-class criminals as the White Gloves there. However, as they filed into the room and started pulling out their equipment for the robbery, Jean caught sight of something in the shadows.

There was a slight motion in the corner of the room near where Kitty was setting up the radio transductor. Glowing golden eyes flicked open, unnoticed by the 15-year-old.

"Kitty, get back!" Jean shouted. Kitty leaped backwards from the transductor as Kurt appeared from the shadows, tail lashing.

"Ve begin." He didn't ask it, he stated it flatly. Scott glared at him, but nodded stiffly, almost imperceptibly.

Five minutes later, the Gloves were standing to attention, facing Jean in the center of the room.

"Kitty and Kurt will run surveillance inside the fence. Get as far in as you can. Stay unnoticed. If you're found, alert me. Rogue, Scott, you patrol the outside fence; get a hands-on feel for where the guards are. Evan, come with me. We'll be running oversight." Jean stated crisply. "Don't kill each other."

"Hold on." Kurt pulled Blitz and Blut out of their case, sliding them smoothly into their crossed scabbards strapped to his back with a hiss. He held out a hand and Kitty took it grudgingly before it felt like her body was being forced into a tiny tube, then pulled in all different directions before she landed, grasping Kurt's arm tightly, just inside the security perimeter of GITMO.

While Kitty put herself into a semi-substantial state Kurt leapt up onto the wall, clinging to the shadows between the wall and the ceiling, invisible.

"Keep moving. I can feel a current down zis hall to ze outside." Kurt whispered from the shadows. She heard a soft padding noise, like cats' paws on a smooth metal surface. The tip of his tail hung down, so she could follow him. As he led her deeper into the maze of corridors and hallways, Kitty's mind went into overdrive as it settled on a sickening thought: could he be leading her into a trap. He could really be a GITMO authority undercover. He could be a for-hire assassin. He could just be a hateful person. He could be leading her to turn her into GITMO. He could be doing a lot of things.

Even worse: he could be a pedophile, or a rapist, or a molester. He was _so old_. Suddenly, Kitty realized she was drawing her pistol out of its holster. Kurt's ears pricked as he heard the _click_ of Kitty disabling the safety. He turned around, dropping easily to the floor and straightening.

"Vat are you doing?" He hissed. Kitty cocked the gun.

"Kazerine! Stop zat!" Kurt snapped quietly. He could hear footsteps coming nearer. Kitty's finger tightened on the trigger. Kurt's mind whirled and he teleported in rapid succession. Just before the gun fired, it was gone. It was too late, though. The guards had heard the sharp _crack_s of Kurt's teleportation, which reverberated like quick gunshots. They were immediately running through the corridors, finding nothing when they got to the scene.

Kurt had let go of the loaded gun in the split second that he hovered in the other dimension of his teleportation. It fired.

Kitty came to her senses and fell through the floor, finding herself in a large, oblong room filled with computers.

Kurt homed in on Kitty, teleporting into the computer room with her, hand clasped over the hole in his thigh.

"Get ze info and get out." He growled, trying to stem the bleeding. Kitty quickly hacked the nearest computer, diving into prototype information.

The network alarms went off.

Moments later, guards stormed into the room to find it empty, not even a drip of blood on the floor, the only evidence the slight warmth on the mouse of the computer.

In a whirl, the two teleported back to the motel. Kurt sent out the mental red-alert through Jean, who called the recon teams back. They arrived at the motel minutes later. Evan was the first to notice Kurt's wound.

"What happened? You got nailed by a guard?" he asked smugly. Kurt bared his teeth at the boy.

"Kazerine decided it vould be fun to shoot me." He growled, shooting a pointed, angry look at Kitty.

Jean cocked her head at Kitty.

"What made you think that was a good idea, _Katherine_?" Jean made a point of using her full name, like Kitty's mother used to when she was in trouble.

"I—just, scared- I thought—a trap—could've been a—argh!" Kitty stuttered, trying to form coherent sentences, but stuttered out gibberish. Jean watched with narrowed, suspicious eyes as Kitty grappled for words. Even though she didn't like the German at all, he was crucial in the plans.

Breathing deeply in frustration at her own incompetence, Kitty ground out her sentence.

"I thought—irrationally—that Kurt was leading me into a trap and reacted on instinct and pulled my gun."

"Mm-hm." Jean muttered, crossing her arms. "No firearms for you."

"That's not fair! You can't do that! I'm the best shot on the team!" Kitty protested shrilly.

"Why don't we see how good Kurt is with a gun?" Jean said slyly, just to annoy the young girl.

"After I heal, danke for your conzideration." Kurt grunted from the shadowy-est part of the room. He drew one of his daggers and pressed the flat of the blade to each side of his leg—the bullet had gone clean through his thigh. When he pulled the dagger away, the flesh was stitching itself together rapidly healing, though it looked painful by the grimace on the German's face.

Kitty didn't bother to ask how he performed the unholy feat of witchcraft and devilry, she just wrinkled her nose and shook her head. Kurt growled softly at her, sending shivers down her spine.

"Give me a gun and target." Kurt demanded. Rogue handed him her gun resentfully. She pointed to a broken old TV on the roof across from the motel that was about 300 yards away and less than 2 feet square. Kurt weighed and balanced the weapon carefully with his tail, then passed it to his hand, cocked, aimed, and hit the TV dead in the middle of the cracked screen. He collected the cartridge and handed the gun, handle-side, to Rogue in one swift movement.

"It's settled. Kurt's the new sharpshooter." Jean said. Nobody objected. Even Kitty, the famously steady and accurate shot, would have trouble with that.

"No. That was a fluke. Three times in a row proves him." Kitty balked. Rogue kept her weapon on her belt.

"Waste of ammo. We're on limited supplahs, Kit. We can't go shootin' evr'ythin' that catches yer fancy." Rogue said, clicking the strap of the holster over the top of the gun.

"Now that you guys have had your pissing match, what did we actually learn from that recon?" Scott interrupted.

"Kitty's trigger happy," Kurt grumbled.

"Shut up, man. Deal with it. You know, you're healed, you're the new sharpshooter. What more do ya want?" Evan snapped.

"Mein Gott, somevone's pissy," Kurt muttered. Evan formed a sharp spike out of his palm, but had the self-restraint not to impale the antagonistic German on it.

"What did we learn?" Scott bellowed. Rogue glared at him and crossed her arms before reporting her recon.

"The guards move on two-hour shifts thayt hayve a twenny-minute break in between. The network security's goin' down for ten minutes fer system maint'nence t'morra. Perfect tahme t' strike."

"Security's quick to answer to any noise, no matter how small. Any red alerts and they'll be all over us like flies on a carcass in August. If they do get us, there's no way to evade them. We'd have to fight our way out." Kitty said flatly. Scott nodded.

"Zere's a computer room zat appears to be zeir CC under ze first floor at about ze midvay point of ze souz corridor. Ve could access ze information from zere." Kurt said.

"The chain-link fence outside is rigged with sensors. We cut it, they find us. Prisoners are also quick to alert to an outsider. We've got to go when there are no prisoners out." Evan said. Scott nodded again.

"So what everyone's saying is that we need to strike at night when the guards change and when the network security's offline. We have to be dead quiet and very careful about sensors, right?" Scott formulated the plan.

"Wrong. Tha network security's gonna be off at one o'clock pm t'morra when the guards _aren't_ changin'." Rogue corrected.

"So we get in at the guard change closest before one o'clock. The prisoners'll be out from ten to twelve in the exercise courtyard, which runs the length of the west side of the base which is its weakest spot, meaning we'll have to go in though a more heavily guarded area. The north gate isn't as protected as the south gate or the east side, we could have Kurt teleport us in." Jean reasoned.

"No. I can't teleport zat many people in. Ve'll go in zrough ze souz gate at a guard change and hide out in an auxiliary hallvay zat I teleported into today until vone o'clock, zen Kazerine vill phase us down into ze computer room under ze corridor, get ze information, and ve'll be out viz our secrets." Kurt said.

"Wha can't we go in thra the east side then just work our ways ova to tha south corrid'r?" Rogue asked.

"It's more likely ve'll be found, and ve vant to reduce our risks as much as ve can." Kurt stated.

"Then it's set. We go in through the south entrance at eleven hundred hours on the guard change, hide out in the aux hallway, strike at thirteen hundred hours, and have Kitty and Kurt phase and teleport us back to the motel." Scott stated. Neither Kitty nor Kurt objected.

~*X*~

At ten thirty am, the Gloves were set up a few hundred yards from the south entrance under the cover of the palm "forest", as it were. Kurt had scaled the thickest palm and was watching from a vantage point with binocs. As the guards in the tower by the south entrance raised their radios to their lips, Kurt slid down the trunk of the tree and galloped over to the rest of the gang on all fours.

"Zey're beginning to move." He reported, standing up and checking to see Blitz and Blut were in their scabbards securely.

"There's cloud cover and it's dark now. Kurt, you lead us in." Jean stated, then motioned for the invasion to begin. Kurt crept to the edge of the trees, looking between the guards and the Gloves lined silently behind him. He galloped across the hundred yards of open grass on four legs to the edge of the fence, in the shadow of the guard tower, holding up his hand in the "stay there" sign. He glanced at the guards. They hadn't seen him. They were now turning their backs, in the stairwell of the tower, out of sight. He put two fingers to his other palm and Jean and Scott raced across, Evan was about to run when the guards emerged at the bottom of the tower.

Kurt made the "back up" symbol and Evan disappeared into the forest again. The guards had their backs turned, but that didn't mean they wouldn't turn around if they heard something or saw it in their peripheral vision. Once they were in the doorway of the south entrance, Kurt motioned for the other three to come across.

Silent and fleet as a shadow, Kurt moved to the access road of the south entrance. The White Gloves filed along behind him as the sky darkened several shades with an approaching storm.

_Perfekt_. Kurt thought, a dark grin spreading across his face. An unexpected variable, a Hummer coming down the road, was suddenly thrown into the equation. Kitty grabbed their hands quickly and phased them down into the ground, disappearing from sight of the Hummer. There was a noise like prolonged thunder overhead, then Kitty let them up, gasping for air. The Hummer had just passed them, and Kurt leapt after it, staying in its blind spot and gaining access to the door. Three minutes were down until the guards came back. Putting his foot in the sensor of the door to keep it open, Kurt motioned for the Gloves to follow, spying a security camera. He pointed to it and Evan shot a spike neatly through the lens. The door closed and Kurt led them into the nearest auxiliary hallway. There was a room at the end of the hallway with an open door. Scott requested permission to investigate using hand signals. Kurt nodded and Scott tiptoed down the hall, clinging to the wall. As he reached the end of the hall, Kurt could see his eyes widen through the visor almost imperceptibly. There was something at the end of that hallway. He turned to come back to the group, but his boot hit the doorjamb, a viciously loud sound.

Scott made the silent sign for "run!" and the Gloves started to sprint before Kitty got a hold of them and pulled them through the floor while the sound of boots rang overhead.

"It was a guards' room," Scott whispered. Kurt nodded. Kurt pricked his ears as he heard a new sound: static on a radio. There was a bleep, and a voice came through.

"Intruders . . . ground floor . . . high alert . . ." the sound faded away as the guard with the radio started walking away them.

"Zey know ve're here," Kurt breathed. Nobody else had heard the radio. There was a camera in the corner of the hallway, and it was focused on them, the lens dilating and contracting to get a sharp image. Both Kurt, Evan, and Scott noticed it at the same time. Kurt whipped out a knife as Evan pulled a spike and Scott opened his visors. There was a small screeching noise and the camera was demolished, but the guards had alerted.

"Get vat you need now," Kurt hissed to Kitty, who shot off down the hall with the rest of the Gloves coming behind. She felt along the walls, then came to a panel that slid away to reveal the computer room. Kurt didn't pause to ask how she knew, he just let her do her thing.

Kitty's hands flew over the keyboard, her eyes glued to the screen, blueprints and codecs and encrypted files coming up. Rogue manned the mouse and hit print on every document that popped up, all the printers in the room working at the same time, top-secret info pouring into the telekinetic grasp of Jean.

As the printers stopped the thundering racket, though, a sound reached the Gloves' ears.

The cocking of guns.

**Muahaha, cliffie! I want to have 15 reviews (15 shall be the number on the top of the page!) before I give you chapter 5. I wanted 10 reviews before posting this, but I was feeling nice and put it up when you only gave me 9. 15! Remember that!**


	5. Take Your Shirt Off

**D:WIO**

**You guys were totally awesome in answering the call of 15 reviews, they just poured in! One moment, there were only 9, then an hour later, BOOM, 15 reviews! I thought it was a glitch until I read them all. So, here's your reward, chapter 5 on the double!**

**Take Your Shirt Off  
**

"_Schei__β__e_," Kurt hissed. "Nobody move."

"Stop talking! You are intruders in Guantanamo Bay, and you are stealing top secret classified information. You will face a lifetime in prison when you are charged." One of the guards stated, leveling his gun's muzzle with Kurt's forehead. Behind his back, his tail was slowly drawing a knife.

_When I pull the knife, everyone attack_, Kurt thought to Jean, who spread the message. Their eyes were trained on Kurt's tail.

"Ach, mein Freund, zere's ze problem. I'm terribly afraid zat ve von't ever be charged, so no need to get cells ready. Justice may be fast, but my knife is faster!" Kurt drew the knife and flung it at the guard, hitting him in the forehead. All Hell broke loose. Kitty grabbed the papers and started phasing through the computers, frying them, and looking for a way out. Kurt had rapidly expended his knives and had Blitz and Blut out, glinting in the harsh light.

Scott mowed down six guards with one blast and Jean was destroying the weapons as she bashed the guards' heads against the walls. More guards were at the ready, and blocking the exit. Blades whirring in a deadly figure-eight, Kurt ran toward the door and cut a path through the onslaught of guards, blood spattering on his coat.

"Move!" he shouted, and the others were quick to follow his path. Rogue had taken her gloves off and was touching to kill, taking all life force from the guards, then she drew her gun and started firing. Kitty was dealing out vicious kicks and had drawn one of her daggers, papers clutched in the other hand. She stabbed a guard in the throat and kicked his body away before being choked from behind by another guard.

Kitty let out a strangled screech, but Jean, Scott, Rogue, and Evan kept bashing, blasting, spiking and shooting the guards out of the way. Kurt wheeled around as the guards converged on Kitty and the papers. He beheaded three with a swipe of Blitz, then impaled another two with Blut. He swung his blades on a heavy sideswipe and pushed the guards out of the way, shaking them off his swords before thrusting both swords through Kitty's captor and pushing her forwards with the flat of Blitz.

"Get out of here!" he bellowed, and Kitty was quick to obey, leaping over the bodies of the guards, following the rest of the Gloves. Evan had spiked any cameras in the hall on the way out, Kurt hot on his tail with Kitty, when he realized the Gloves were heading farther _in_ to the base.

"Turn around! Turn around, _verdammt!_ You're heading farzer in!" Kurt yelled, wheeling around and sprinting down the hall in the opposite direction. Guards that were obviously Special Forces appeared out of auxiliary hallways ahead of Kurt, armed with riot shields. He pitied them for a fraction of a second. They thought they were safe.

With an animalistic snarl, he leapt on them, blades singing with the speed he dealed death with. A SF guard caught his blades locked in a cross on the muzzle of his gun, holding them as Kurt strained against physics to free his swords. The guard was about to deal an underhanded kick, but Kurt beat him to it with a dagger to the gut. His swords ripped free and he raced down the hallway when he burst through a wall into fresh air in an alley between two buildings, the rest of the Gloves following through the smoking hole Scott had blast.

It was midnight black, thunder cracking and lightning illuminating the trees swaying like mere stalks of grass in the gale. Kurt heard the click of safety being pulled above the wind and pulled his pistol, aimed on hearing and fired, and when he smelled blood he knew he hit the guard. Continuing on, Rogue dealed heavy shots to rooftop guards as well as Scott, and Jean disabled any security blocks ahead. Evan shot blindly, hitting wall-mounted cameras as well as guards as he ran.

A spike whistled dangerously close to Kurt's ear, but he turned a corner and dead stopped, Kitty running into him.

"What? Keep running!" Kitty screeched, looking back at the advancing guards. Kurt shook his head. Before them stood an army of soldiers and guards, filling the fifty yards to the south entrance.

"That's not good." Evan said, but pushed Kurt forward as the guards behind them neared. "Go, man, do something!"

"Gott, have mercy," Kurt whispered before screaming and throwing daggers at the front line of soldiers, accompanied by spikes and bullets and lasers from his gang. With a vicious cross stroke, Kurt plowed down ten men and kept going, stabbing with the dagger in his tail, sheathing Blut deftly and pulling his pistol, alternately shooting and slashing.

As his pistol ran out of ammo, he hurled it like a boomerang and hit a soldier in the head, then redrew Blut with a cry of victory. Shots rang out, and they weren't the 44. caliber of Rogue's guns. They were rifle shots. In the darkness, the sharpshooters were flailing, hitting their own soldiers. There was a high feminine shriek, and Kurt instinctively knew it wasn't Rogue or Jean. He backflipped over a guard and kicked him in the face on the way down, sheathing Blitz and Blut. Kurt galloped to where Kitty lay, the smell of blood heavy in the pitch black.

"Vy didn't you phase!" Kurt demanded angrily, scooping Kitty up and using his tail to draw Blitz. Guards fell on Evan's spikes ahead of Kurt, who leapt over them like a cavaletti, and Jean parted the remaining guards with telekinesis, now flying above the Gloves, sending out fatal blasts of energy. Kurt blazed through the south entrance, throwing his remaining two daggers at the guards in the tower before ducking into the cover of the forest. He stopped suddenly and Scott plowed into him, knocking him over. Kurt rolled on impact, cradling the injured Kitty's head.

"All here?" Kurt asked, voice heavy with exhaustion. He heard panting, but he couldn't identify individuals.

"Yeah," Rogue said, falling down, her chest heaving.

"Huh," Evan grunted, doubled over.

"Ditto," Scott mumbled, wiping the sweat off his forehead, thoroughly out of breath.

"Mm," Jean groaned, leaning heavily on a tree.

"Good. Ve have to get out of here. You still have the papers, Kätzchen?" Kurt asked, almost tenderly.

"Don't you use that tone of voice with me," Kitty snapped, hitting Kurt upside the head with the papers.

"I'll take zat as a yes," Kurt grumbled. He heard a tired laugh from the others. "Grab my tail."

Kurt felt four pairs of hands gripping his tail.

There was a hot flash as they all dropped heavily to the floor of the hotel room. There was silence as they all waited for Kurt to give the order.

"Guys, he's not breathing," Kitty's voice steadily rose in pitch. Then she squealed in pain. Jean crawled over and felt for a pulse.

"Shit! Anybody know CPR? !" She demanded. Nobody moved a muscle, not even Kitty.

"He's dead now, we don't have to kill him. Just another load off my back," Scott said, speaking everybody's mind.

"You're all so horrible! Come on, he saved our asses back there! Where would we be without him? Kitty dying of a gunshot wound back at GITMO 'cuz nobody other than Kurt bothered to pick her up, and we'd all be in a cell!" Jean pleaded. Finally Rogue sat up and crawled forward, towards Kurt.

She performed the CPR, then sat back quickly and wiped her lips off.

"He taysts lahke blood. Disgustin'." She commented, spitting a couple of times. Kurt coughed hard a couple times, struggling with the blackness of extreme exhaustion threatening to pull him under.

"Vasser[1]," Kurt panted. Rogue cocked her head.

"What?"

"Vater," he choked. Jean leaped up and grabbed a bottle of water from her briefcase. She poured half of it on Kurt's face by accident, making him sit up suddenly.

"Not on my face, smart one! I don't drink by osmosis! Gimme zat bottle!" He snatched it from Jean's hand and downed it in one gulp. "I zought I vas gonna die," he confessed. Everyone stayed silent.

"Scott wanted you to die," Kitty confessed suddenly, quietly. Kurt turned an accusing glare on Scott, but let it drop quickly.

"He's vanted me dead for a lot longer time zan just GITMO." He stated. "Did ve get vat ve need?"

"Yeah, more or less," Kitty shrugged, then grimaced.

"Vere did you get hit?" Kurt asked. Kitty pointed to her left shoulder. "Hurts real bad?"

"Yes," she hissed as Kurt poked her shoulder.

"Verdammt, I left all my daggers at GITMO," Kurt realized. "Ach, vell. It's adamantium more zan ze dagger."

"What?" Evan asked from behind Kurt.

"Adamantium reacts viz ze mutant gene and stimulates increased healing temporarily," Kurt explained. Evan nodded.

"Do you have adamantium?" Jean asked. Kurt nodded and drew Blut.

"Take off your shirt, Keety." He said.

"What? No!" Kitty protested. Kurt sighed.

"You honestly zink I haven't seen a voman's chest before?" he asked with a touch of humor.

"Can't you heal me with a shirt on?"

"Sorry, nein, it has to be skin contact. Now take your shirt off." Kitty, her face red with blush, took her shirt off, but flinched as Kurt brought Blut close to her wound.

"Will it hurt?" she asked, just like a little kid about to get a shot.

"It von't be pleasant, if zat's vat you're asking." Kurt said, moving her hand away from her shoulder and pressing the flat of the blade to her wound. Kitty's eyes shot open and she bit her lip to keep from screaming. Kurt removed the blade and quirked an eyebrow.

"Shall I continue?" Kitty nodded. Kurt pressed the blade to the other side of her shoulder, then finished the front of her shoulder. "Not kvite good as new, but useable."

"Thank you," Kitty said, putting her shirt back on quickly. _There, now that wasn't so bad. He didn't molest you._ Kitty thought, blush coming back to her cheeks. _Of course he wouldn't, he's got your best intentions in mind_. _Or does he? He seems to know_ . . .

Jean cocked her head at Kitty, who made her mind go blank immediately, thinking about Taylor Swift. There was an awkward silence, then Kurt staggered up and the rest of the Gloves stood.

"I don't know about you all, but I am kvite sick of Cuba."

**[1] That's the German word for water, FYI, but it's actually spelled "Wasser" I spelled it with a v so you'd know how it's pronounced.**

**Yayz, chapter 5. I know you all are super reviewers, so I want 20 (maybe 21) reviews before chapter 6. I know you can do it. You'll probably have 21 by the time I check up on this again . . . but chapter six will take longer, due to the fact I'll be away most of tomorrow. So, I'll put it up ASAP, but I've got to have those magic 20! Love you all, I know you can do it! **

**So so sorry for the confusion! Thank you for pointing this out, FrankandJoe3, but I only want 20 _total_ reviews! Not 20 reviews on one chapter! Whoo! Sorry! Once again, just a misunderstanding!  
**


	6. Dull Dagger

**D:WIO**

**Dull Dagger**

The plane ride home was quiet. Very quiet. After being picked up discreetly at the airstrip by the same private jet that brought them, the White Gloves were just happy to be out of immediate danger for the moment.

The silence in the plane was comfortable, except not for Kitty. She kept nervously glancing at Kurt, sprawled in his seat, watching the clouds, tail flicking lazily, wondering if she should say something. After all, he _knew_—or did he? Immediately, with a stab of guilt, Kitty cleared her mind as she caught sight of Jean gazing at her.

_Anything wrong, Kitty?_ Jean asked mentally. Kitty shook her head almost imperceptibly.

_I was just wondering about Kurt's daggers. He lost them at GITMO, and he seemed to like them a lot. I was thinking maybe I could get him a new set . . . ?_ Kitty thought.

_No need. While he was sleeping at the hotel, I flew over the base to check out the damage, and collected his daggers and knives while I was there. You want to be the one to give them to him? _Jean answered.

_I guess, if you want me to. Just when did you and Kurt get so friendly? Before GITMO, I heard Kurt and Evan talking in the car, and Kurt said you were quite inclined to let him into the Gloves. Are you sleeping with him? _ Kitty accused. She could tell Jean was shocked, but she kept her face expertly emotionless, turning her gaze to the clouds.

_No. We were at the same foster home for a while, when we were a lot younger. I'm an orphan, just like him. His parents moved here from Germany, but they became homeless and gave him up, and when he got to the orphanage, he looked like that, only cuter, more like an elf than a demon. _Jean answered.

_You sure that's all?_ Kitty jibed.

_That's all, Katherine. _Jean assured with a firm mental voice. _You can give Kurt his knives now if you want. I slipped them into his briefcase before we got on, and it should be right under you._

Kitty reached down and phased her hand into the tiny luggage hold of the jet, fumbling around but finding Kurt's case. Kurt looked over as he saw Kitty searching for something beneath the floor of the plane.

"Hey, Kurt," Kitty whispered, then looked around. Rouge, Evan, and Scott were either asleep or listening to music, and Jean had disappeared to the lavatory.

"Ja?" he asked quietly, lazily. His eyes were bright, but the dark circles under them betrayed his tiredness.

"Did you really like your daggers?" Kitty asked, not knowing how else to give them to him but just pulling the case out and throwing them at him.

"Stop it, Kazerine. It's not a nice joke." He said, turning away.

"Kurt, wait! You really liked them, right? And adamantium daggers are hard to come by." Kitty hissed. Kurt looked at her out of the corner of his gold eye.

"Cut to ze chase already." He whispered.

"A very happy un-birthday to you," Kitty pulled his case up and slid it towards him. He turned towards her again, quirking an eyebrow, and picked the case up.

"Zere's nozing zat's going to pop out at me, right? I'm not good viz surprises," he muttered, but opened the case. Kurt's face brightened immediately, and Kitty saw him run his finger over the blades that Jean had rescued.

"You like?" Kitty asked, smiling.

"Vat did I do to deserve zese back?" he asked, elated.

"You saved my life," she said. It was all she could think of. "And you saved all our butts at GITMO."

"Vow, zank you Kätzchen!" he said brightly, closing the case and leaning over, wrapping her in a strong, friendly hug. Kitty's stomach plummeted. Kurt pulled away, but there was nothing in his eyes to suggest the hug had been any more than friendly thanks and happiness. She let her breath go—she hadn't realized she'd been holding it—and gave him a bright smile.

"Hey, Kurt, can I ask you something? What does Kätzchen mean?" Kitty whispered.

"It means kitten. Because your name's Keety, like a cat." Kurt answered. Kitty nodded stiffly and she heard the lavatory door lock click, and Jean walked back to her seat. They traded a swift glance and Jean opened her book. Kurt seemed absorbed in his knives, a small smile fixed on his face.

_Why do I keep thinking he's a perv? He's not, and he's proved that a bunch of times. I need to relax. So if I'm not afraid of him being a perv, why did I feel that way when he hugged me? Oh god, I can't. I won't say those words, I can't have a crush—no! _Kitty thought, the chaos of her thoughts making her forehead crease as if she was angry. She caught sight of Kurt looking at her and blushed and looked away.

_Shit. It's always worse when you admit it. It's not right anyway! Eew, pedo! But it's not him, it's _me_ being, like, reverse pedo . . . or is that called . . . I don't know. Ick. And he calls me kitten! Eew! In a different language so I don't know! Even worse! Oh frick frick frick _frick_! So who's the real creeper? Me or him? Jean get out of my head!_

Kitty glared at Jean, who was sniggering quietly behind her book. Kitty forced herself to think about something mundane and common, like flowers, but then her brain oh-so-helpfully supplied the question: which flower does Kurt like best? Then her thoughts dived back into the crush and she had to rip them away and transfer them to . . . she riffled through topics in her head. Transfer them to . . . a polar bear in a snowstorm drawn on white paper with chalk eating marshmallows.

She smiled as that brought memories of her earlier childhood, which led from one thing to another and invariably ended up landing on Kurt. Her smile turned to a frown as she traced her train of thought all the way back to the polar bear. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kurt close his case and glance out the window, his body twisting an unnatural 180 degrees, but it didn't seem to bother him.

"Hey, I zink I see ze airport," he said. Jean leaned over and woke up Evan and Scott, and Rogue was already winding her earphones around her MP3 and putting it away. The copilot walked out of the cockpit and announced that they were only a few minutes from landing.

Kitty pulled everyone's cases from below, and when the wheels touched down on the tarmac, the White Gloves stepped out and entered the airport, Jean using a shield to make Kurt look normal to passers-by.

The SUV was where Scott had left it just two days ago, and they drove (very haphazardly, I may add) back to CC.

"Ach, Gott, it's good to be home," Kurt sighed.

"Dude, it's been two days." Evan pointed out.

"Ja, but don't tell me zat fight at GITMO didn't tire you out too." Kurt replied, a dreamy expression coming over his face as he recalled with great fondness the fun he had. Then he shook his head and teleported back to his room. Evan and Kitty ran into CC, shouting about how lovely the air conditioning was.

"They're so spoiled," Jean chuckled before following. Rogue and Scott were stuck unloading the SUV, which in reality, wasn't much, but still. Rogue was about to walk into CC when Scott stopped her.

"Hey, Rogue . . ."

~*X*~

When Scott entered CC, Jean was in the kitchen, with the radio turned on and a bottle of honey in her hands. As she listened to the station, she drizzled the honey on her fingers and licked it off. Scott tiptoed up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing his face into her shoulder and scaring her half to death.

"Scott!" she breathed, putting her hand on the back of his head.

"Mm?" he replied.

"You scared me, oh jeez, my heart's going a mile a minute." She whispered, and Scott put one of his hands over her heart. He smiled into her shoulder.

"I finally got you," he murmured, then twirled her around and stunned her with a kiss. The honey bottle fell to the ground and Jean wrapped her arms around Scott's neck, just like their first kiss in Afghanistan before walking out of the building and being "assassinated."

~*X*~

Kurt was in his room, polishing his blades obsessively, when Rogue knocked and entered.

"Hey, Kurt, can ya c'mere fer a minute?" she asked. Kurt nodded, not looking up. He flipped the dagger back into its case using his tail, looked at Rogue and gave her a friendly fanged grin.

Rogue's stomach lurched. In just a few minutes, she would kill this happy person who has his whole life ahead of him, who stood there giving her a happy smile, and she would take it all away. Ignorance really is bliss, then.

Walking down the hall, to where Rogue wasn't sure, but she swallowed her pride and grabbed Kurt's hand in her own gloved hand. The movement was startlingly smooth and natural to Kurt, but Rogue made it seem normal, making him think exactly what Rogue wanted: nothing was wrong.

Rogue led Kurt through the kitchen, which had been vacated, but the amber honey had spilled all over the floor. They ascended up the spiral staircase to the outside world. CC was built underground, and the only part that was aboveground was the entrance to the spiral staircase, which was just really an odd-looking hill. Rogue pulled Kurt into the shadow of the hill and looked up at him through her eyelashes in a way that was very flirty.

"Ya know, ah just can't say thanks enough fer savin' all us back in Cuba," Rogue murmured. Kurt started to get nervous. This was very unlike Rogue.

"Uh, vell, you're velcome, I just—I'd like to get back inside now; vat if somebody sees us?" Kurt said, pulling his hand free of Rogue's grasp.

"Nah, Kurt, ya ain' gettin' the idea here. I really—_really_ like ya, and I don' wantcha to go, and ya wouln' wanna disappoint a beautiful woman, now would ya?" she whispered, stepping way into Kurt's personal space, but seeing as he was backed up against the steep side of the hill, he couldn't go anywhere.

"Rogue, really, please, just let me go," Kurt almost begged, fear entering his eyes as Rogue pressed her body against his. She went up on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his, trying to shut him up so he wouldn't keep begging pitifully- it made her feel almost bad. Almost.

Kurt jerked backwards, falling onto the hill, trying to escape Rogue's kiss, eyes wide in fear and shock. She broke the kiss when Kurt felt like he was going to suffocate to death and hissed in his ear,

"Hold still, this won't hurt a bit."

Kurt felt Rogue's hand on his cheek, but he closed his eyes in fear of what she would do next. Her fingers rubbed over his fur in circles until he felt a sharp shock and he went weak. He opened his eyes and found Rogue was holding him up with her forearm across his chest. His vision was blurry, but he could still distinguish the black shape of a gun in Rogue's hand. There was a click and Kurt felt the press of the muzzle against his temple, and with a jolt he realized Scott had ordered Rogue to take him out.

Normally, adrenaline would've flooded his body and he would have swung a kick to Rogue's ribs and teleported away, but in his weakened state, he resigned himself to the fact and closed his eyes again, knowing there would be no pain, just death. In this way he was lucky, that she was killing him quickly, she could've killed him a million other ways, much more painful ways.

He kept waiting for . . . nothingness, just no more thoughts running through his head, no more feeling, but it didn't come. He opened his eyes and found Rogue staring into his eyes, internal conflict apparent on her face.

"Don'tcha open yer eyes!" she growled, repositioned and cocked the gun, finger milliseconds away from the trigger, and all feeling fell away.

Kitty grabbed Rogue's shoulders and wrenched her away from Kurt, stomping on her wrist until she released the gun. Kurt's eyes flew open in shock and the haze over his gold eyes lifted. He shook his head as Rogue leaped up, turning on him and starting to strangle him. Kitty went to pull her off but Rogue came flying back into her as Kurt kicked her hard in the gut. Rogue lay on the ground and Kurt came over and grabbed her neck, lifting her feet off the ground and holding her in the air above his head as she choked. In his tail he held a dagger, much different from the adamantium set.

"I keep a dull dagger in my belt to kill people like you," he growled. Rouge clawed at his hand, but Kurt wouldn't let go. "You'll feel this cut you, _painfully_, and you von't be able to scream."

Rogue made a noise that sounded like a mix between a squeak of fear and a snort of disdain, but her face was turning blue. Kurt raised the dagger and trailed the tip over different parts of Rogue's body. She looked like she would pass out when Kurt dug the tip into her stomach, just above her belly button, but didn't pierce the skin.

"I shouldn't be doing zis to _you_," he mused, waving the dagger absentmindedly so the blade came dangerously close to Rogue's face, "I should be doing zis to Scott. But he's not here and you are, so you get it."

Rogue's face twisted into a silent shriek of pain, her body writhing as Kurt twisted the point of the dagger into her gut. He moved the dagger and cut a shallow slash down each of her thighs and from somewhere deep within her, Rogue found the pain and air to scream. Kurt let her drop and as she crumpled on the ground, Kurt hit her shoulder with the dagger to keep her from getting up and fighting him.

"And you can give zat to Scott," he hissed, teleporting away.

Kitty was left standing there awkwardly as her best friend in the Gloves choked in air and spasmed with pain on the ground in front of her. After deciding between Rogue and Kurt, she chose Rogue.

She ran over to Rogue and knelt down by her side.

"I'm so, so sorry," she said, holding Rogue's head in her lap and phasing the two down into the bathroom. Kitty stretched Rogue out on the floor and told her to lie still, and she did, though her jaw was clenched with effort. Digging through the drawers frantically, Kitty sought bandages and hydrogen peroxide, and jumped when Kurt tapped her on the shoulder with the flat of an adamantium dagger.

She looked up at him, but his face was emotionless, just holding the dagger out towards her. She started to reach her hand up but recoiled when he flipped it in his hand so the handle was facing her. Kitty took it, not knowing whether to say "thank you", or spit a nasty jibe at him. She just took it and crawled back over to Rogue, whose breath was hissing out between her teeth in an effort not to just break down.

The younger girl lifted the sheer mesh tee that Rogue wore to expose the wound, hesitantly pressing the blade to the wound, knowing that it felt horrible, like her flesh was being pierced again, but worms were crawling under her skin, and then it would go away as the wound knitted together. She went to repeat the process with Rogue's legs, but halted, unsure about how to do it. She looked up to see if Kurt was there, but he was gone and the door was closed. Kitty peered into the darkest corner, but the glowing golden eyes that would always give Kurt away weren't present.

"I hope you didn't like these pants too much," Kitty murmured before ripping the fabric away and pressing the blade to Rogue's cuts.

When the cuts and her shoulder had been healed, Kitty went to wipe the blood off the blade, but a barbed tail wrapped around the blade and it disappeared. Kitty jumped in surprise, looking around for Kurt, then wondering why she hadn't heard any cracks of teleportation.

Beside her, Rogue let one shaking breath after another go, reaching up to touch Kitty's hand. Kitty whirled around.

"What do you need? Water?" she asked, then stood and ran some water into a paper cup. She sat back down and gave it to Rogue, but the older girl noticed that Kitty's movements were more distracted since Kurt came in. After a few more cups of water, Rogue held up her hand.

"I think ah'm fahne now, Kit. Jus' lemme go take a nap or som'n," Rogue said, standing up with Kitty's aid. She staggered off to her room and collapsed on the bed, kicking the door closed.

As Rogue's door slammed shut, Kitty sat down on the edge of the tub with her head in her hands, chastising herself for being so distracted when Kurt came in. There was a crack and Kurt put his hand on Kitty's shoulder, but she jumped and fell backwards into the tub, her head smacking against the tiling.

"Oh! Hey, Kätzchen, you alright?" Kurt leaned down and pulled her up. Kitty rubbed the back of her head.

"Yeah, I think I'll be okay. Th—" she stopped herself from saying "thanks for asking" when she realized she wasn't going to say it sarcastically. Kurt nodded. Kitty looked up at him out of the corner of her eye as she put her head back down in her hands. He was handsome, sharp features, and those gorgeous eyes of his—wait now, how many hours had it been since she was hoping he'd be lying dead on the floor with one of Rogue's bullets through his head? 72?

"Vat's wrong?" he asked, cocking his head.

"Nothing—I was just thinking about . . . nevermind." Kitty trailed off, feeling like Bella in the scene in New Moon where she hits her head on the rock. Kurt smirked at that moment.

"You're zinking about me, aren't you?" he grinned.

"Are you a mind reader as well?" Kitty smiled back.

"Really, are you okay, zough?" Kurt asked, putting his hand on her shoulder again. Kitty nodded. An awkward silence fell between the two, in which Kitty looked down at her feet.

"Hey, uh, Kurt, could I ask you something?" Kitty broke the silence.

"Too late, Kätzchen, you already did," Kurt smiled. Kitty snorted.

"You know what I mean. How did you take the dagger from me without coming into the room? I mean, I didn't hear you teleport in." Kitty said.

"Oh, zat? It's a trick I picked up a few years ago . . . I don't really know how I do it, but basically ven I'm in ze middle of a teleportation, I stop ze part of me zat I don't vant to appear, and ze part of me I vant appears like a normal teleportation, zough it snaps back to verever I am almost instantly. Really not as hard as it sounds. I can do it viz ozzer objects too, like if I vas to do it viz you, I could just drop you off in ze kitchen, say, and I vould never appear. It vould be like you teleported," Kurt explained. Kitty nodded again.

"Could I ask you another question?" Kitty asked. Kurt nodded for her to go ahead.

"Vatever you vant to ask, go ahead."

"Could you teach me to fight with swords?"

**The longest chapter so far, I hope y'all enjoyed it. Please review! I shall not ask for reviews any more, I'll just post chapters as soon as I write them. Sorry this chap took so long, but it did take a while to write. And while we're on the subject of White Gloves, be sure to be aware that I'm writing the screenplay and starting to animate the first chapter of White Gloves, due to be out on YouTube before Christmas. And here's something to look at. First person to notice the "strange" thing about this sentence shall be deemed Officially Awesome! - Haily O. Thompson, you can't answer.**

**ALTHOUGH BARNABY CRUSHED DORA, ELEPHANTS FOLLOWED GRAPES HASTILY INTO JUMPING KANGAROO LABORITORIES, MANY NARNIANS OPPOSED PURPLE QUILTS REGULARLY, SOME THINGS UNCOVERED VERY WELL, XAVIER YELLED "ZEBRAS!"**


	7. The Glass Flower

**D:WIO**

It was black as night and cold as midwinter, a new moon, and barely any light from the stars. All was dead silent, then a radio crackled with static.

" . . . av—Avala . . . Avalanche . . . . o—ver . . ."

The radio was picked up and the static stopped as the "talk" button was pressed.

"Shadowcat over." The static resumed as the "talk" button was released and the message flung out over radio waves.

" . . . 'lone . . . ?"

"Yes."

" . . . welve hours . . . 'go . . . Glass Flow'r . . . exhibit . . ."

"Then why didn't you tell me twelve hours ago?" it was a commanding, scathing tone of voice used, obviously pointing out Avalanche's incompetence.

" . . . radio . . . off . . ." the radio crackled.

"The connection is horrible here." It was said very flatly.

" . . . next? . . ."

"I'll use a _telephone_ tomorrow." was spat into the radio and the power turned off. Stiff joints stood up from the frosted heather and started trudging back to where they came from.

~*X*~

Kitty's alarm screamed in her ears at 6 am. She reached out a heavy hand and phased through it, effectively silencing it for good. Pillow shoved over her head, she fell back asleep.

~*X*~

In the small mirror-walled gym at CC, Kurt waited impatiently, tapping his foot, holding two fencing swords and two face guards. Across the gym, by the wall, lay protective pads for Kitty. He checked his watch. She was ten minutes late. Growling in annoyance, he teleported away and the swords clattered to the ground.

~*X*~

Kurt appeared in Kitty's room, quite ticked. His ears were flattened and eyes narrowed as he glared at the sleeping form of Kitty. Suddenly, he ripped her sheets off and pushed the pillow off. She didn't move. Kurt growled louder and reached over to her nightstand, and, using his tail, proceeded to dump water on Kitty's face. She sat bolt upright suddenly, gasping and pushing her wet bangs out of her face.

"_K_—" she was about to shriek his name in indignation when a hard smack landed on the back of her head in a style that could be only defined as a "GibbsSlap version 2.0: the Tail."

"You are ten—no, _tvelve_ minutes late for practice." He hissed, his hands on his hips and eyes narrowed in annoyance.

"Sor-_ry,_" Kitty sneered, then realized she wasn't in a position to sneer.

"Zree minutes and I come back viz Blitz." Kurt said dangerously, teleporting away. Kitty grumbled but got up, stumbling drunkenly around her room, pulling out clothes, turning on her music, then realizing they were the wrong clothes and fixing her wardrobe choice, and somewhere in there, distractedly picking up an issue of _Cosmopolitan_ and thumbing through it. She didn't notice the faint whisper of Kurt teleporting slowly into the room.

However, she _did_ notice the sharp, cold point of Blitz digging into her spine. Kitty's body froze, but her brain was racing, commanding her frozen jaw to scream, commanding her shocked body to move, to draw away from the pain that was coming now that Kurt had pierced the skin. All of a sudden, though, the sword drew away.

"I told you I'd come back viz Blitz. I see you didn't take my warning," Kurt whispered silkily in her ear. Then Kitty's body chose to scream and leap. She shrieked and leaped sideways, twisting away from Kurt and falling flat on her butt. Kurt stood there, looking down on her, holding Blitz with a slightly confused or shocked expression on his face. Then he started laughing. "Ach, mein Gott, Kätzchen!"

Kitty had the sense to frown at him. "So are you going to teach me or not?"

Kurt became instantly serious. "Of course I am. Now get up and come to the gym!" he snapped, whirling away in a teleport.

Two minutes later, Kitty phased into the gym. Kurt was not in sight, but she saw the fencing pads and figured she'd put them on. She struggled with the white fabric for a minute, then finally settled the seams in the right places, only to have Kurt appear out of nowhere and slap her hands off her shoulders and snap that she had it on backwards.

"_Goodness_," Kitty breathed irately as she went through the whole dance again, nervous and fumbling under the piercing glare of the German demon.

"Finally, ve are ready. Zese," he picked up two long, narrow sword-like objects, "are _foils_, not svords! Zey are generally used in fencing, however, ve vill be using zem today for combative training, for lack of better equipment."

"What do you mean?" Kitty asked, already sweating in the heavy suit.

"Do you really zink I'd let you use vone of my svords?" Kurt asked, giving her a lazy look that said, _really now?_

"That's a rhetorical question, I hope," Kitty grumbled.

"Zere is a protective tip on ze foil, but it vill still hurt ven I hit you, just let it be a lesson to not get hit! Fencing stops ven you land your opponent. Combative fighting depends on not getting hit, and never ends. Getting hit means death. _Vat does getting hit mean?_" Kurt barked, throwing a foil handle-side at Kitty.

She caught it hurriedly, fumbling, and jumped as he shouted. "Death!" she replied quickly, getting a better grip on the handle of the foil.

"_Gut_, you're not as stupid as you look. I von't teach you posture and zat scheisse, but I vill teach you how to parry, attack, and disengage today. Ve'll learn more as ve have more lessons." Kurt said relaxedly, then suddenly whirled towards her and hit her ribs hard with the foil.

"_Ow!_" Kitty said, giving Kurt an angry glare.

"Ven you're trying to keel somebody, zey're not going to shout "on guard!" It's your duty to be prepared at any moment!" Kurt barked. Kitty glared at him and swung her foil down with two hands as hard as she could, hoping to hit Kurt in the legs, but he leaped out of the way.

"Don't be so obvious in vhere you're going to hit. Stare your opponent in ze eyes and use your peripheral vision to vatch your foil." Kurt chided, easily ducking a blow aimed at his face. Kitty proceeded to swing, thrust and whack Kurt into submission in her anger, and as the saying goes, Hell hath no fury like a woman's scorn. The arrogant German was no exception, and after the first fifteen hits landed painfully on his body, his face twisted into a snarl of concentration and defiance as he spun and dodged and slashed with his foil, never actually landing a hit on Kitty until he kicked her knees out from under her.

"_Aaargh!"_ Kitty screeched, flailing her foil backwards and hitting Kurt in the *ahem* _jewels_ from her vantage point on the floor. Kurt doubled over and Kitty leaped up, smashing her foil down onto his neck and kicking him over, putting a foot on his throat, pointing the foil at the point between his eyes so he went cross-eyed to see it.

He looked up at the picture of fury standing above him, Kitty's face scowling dangerously as she ripped off the face guard and threw it to the floor, panting from the exertion of the fight, a slight dangerous smile gracing her features at her mastery of the master. "This makes you one dead elf." She growled.

"And zis makes you one deadly kitten." Kurt choked, pushing Kitty's foot off his throat and struggling up into a standing position. He took Kitty's foil and put them back over by one side as Kitty stripped out of her sweat-soaked pads.

"I'm going to take a shower." She flounced out of the gym and Kurt smiled at her back.

"Tomorrow it's zrowing knives!" he called at her as she slammed the door behind her. "I know you're not really fifteen." He said to no one. "Too strong, kitten."

He gathered up the foils and threw them into the closet he'd found them in, along with the fencing pads he'd found in the same closet, 'porting upstairs to change.

XXX

That afternoon, the telephone rang. Kurt teleported over to it and was about to pick it up when Kitty dived for it and knocked it out of his hands, leaving the German standing there rather confused. He shrugged and walked away as Kitty cupped the mouthpiece of the phone and started speaking in hushed tones.

"We can't start planning _yet_, idiot." She hissed into the phone. "We have to wait for the official call. Then it's all systems go."

She listened to the person on the other end of the line. "Yes, yes, do recon, just _don't steal it!_ What's that? Don't you dare cut me—"

Kitty glared at the phone and slammed it down into its cradle.

"Somezing vrong?" Kurt asked, leaning against the wall across the room, one eyebrow raised and a cocky smile reminiscent of Errol Flynn on his face.

"Yeah. You." Kitty spat and stormed out of the room. Kurt jogged after her.

"Ooh, touchy. Vot's got leetle Keety's knickers in a tvist?" he jibed.

"Back off!" Kitty wheeled around on him and slapped him in the face, sending him reeling backwards. He put a hand to the cheek that Kitty had slapped and his glare suddenly grew dark and dangerous.

"Zat vos uncalled for." He growled and disappeared with a _crack_ like a gunshot. Kitty was left standing there feeling rather torn. Half of her was scared and sorry, and the other half was smug and angry. Slapping herself in the face, Kitty went into her room and pulled up her laptop from in the mattress of her bed and flipped it open, starting a private browsing web search. _The Glass Flower_, she typed into the search bar.

Eyes narrowing as she paged down, sifting through the information. The Glass Flower was a 1000 carat diamond cut to look like a rose, and it was perfectly flawless, the largest diamond in the world, almost twice as big as the Millennium Star. This is what a client had unofficially called the Brotherhood, the White Gloves' archrival and another thief gang, about, offering ten million for the diamond, and that was why Avalanche had called Kitty, or Shadowcat. She was the twenty-year-old leader of the Brotherhood.

XXX

XXX

XXX

The phone rang. Jean picked it up. Her face lit up as she put the phone down. "We've got ourselves a job!" she called through the house. Everybody ran to the phone and Jean. "It's a client who will give us ten million for a diamond called the Glass Flower."

Kitty's face paled. _Oh no_.

**Muahaha, I'm evil, eh? *basks in evilness* I'm sorry it's such a short chappie, but it gets really good from here on out. :D**


	8. Race to Frisco

**Thanks much to all my reviewers and my fantabulous beta Tatiana K!  
**

"We move in three hours!" Scott shouted. Kitty ran to her room and slammed the door, sliding down it.

"_Bitch,_" she hissed. This was going to complicate things. _What are the odds? Two clients with the same request, same asking price, same time—_

Kitty cursed again as she realized it was the same client provoking a gang war. _Oh, dammit!_ She cursed the client from now until next Sunday and back again. This was really going to split her loyalties. It occurred to her that it could be the government trying to eliminate the thief gangs, using the gangs as weapons of their own destruction (she wasn't a dumb woman), but there was no way to prove that. If that was it, though, there was nothing she could do to stop it except pull the Brotherhood out of the op and refuse _ten million dollars_ that the Brotherhood could use: face it, they were the rattiest, sorriest excuse for thieves, loud and leaving trails of all sort, paling magnificently in comparison to the elite, professional White Gloves. Kitty only led them because Avalanche was her boyfriend, and she wasn't _so _heartless to let five human beings die for lack of good leadership and jobs.

But why would the government pit the Brotherhood, the loserest losers on the plane of thieving, against the White Gloves? Maybe this wasn't the government, maybe it was just some rich sadist looking for a rise by watching thief mutants beat each other to death over a diamond and a few dollars. Kitty pressed her hands to her temples and groaned in frustration. If this really was the case, then all her friends and cronies (_and herself_, a little dark part of her mind supplied) would end up killing each other without some huge sacrifice on someone's part.

Over the next two and a half hours, Kitty busied herself trying to figure out ways to avert the looming catastrophe without A) ruining the Brotherhood, B) ruining the White Gloves, C) revealing herself as the leader of the Brotherhood, or D) dying. Half an hour out from go time, Scott came down the hallway, banging on doors and giving the 30-minute warning. Kitty shouted something along the lines of "go away, I'm already ready" at her door and threw her papers down in anger.

She punched her mirror and shattered it, but bloodied her knuckles and was forced to pack with one hand.

"Vould you please not punch ze valls? You know, I'm on ze ozzer side, and I don't enjoy ze symphony of Keety breaking her knuckles her mirror, vhich, surprisingly enough, is connected to my vall." A prickly, familiar German voice said behind Kitty. "Or ze mirrors." She started to growl a response in anger, then composed herself into the 15-year-old girl she played.

"I'm really sorry, I slipped and my hand hit the wall." She said apologetically. Kurt arched an eyebrow.

"Uh-_huh_." He layered on the sarcasm. Kitty looked confused.

"I really did slip," she insisted innocently. Kurt's eyes darkened.

"Listen, _girl_, I know you're not who you pretend to be, so cut ze crap. You're obviously angry at somezing or you vouldn't have punched your mirror." He deduced, leaving Kitty fuming.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Kitty said in a level voice bordering on anger, forcing herself not to clench her fists.

"You're not fifteen. You're older. You're secretive and deceptive and have been lying to _everybody_ about _everyzing_ for _years_. I know zat ze Gloves didn't pick you up vhen zey robbed ze museum for ze Star of David, zat vould mean you'd've been too young to be sleeping out in a museum alone, if you had reasonable parents, and it sounds like you did. You came to ze Gloves in lies, but vhen you leave ze Gloves, I'll make it my personal mission to expose you." Kurt growled and vanished. Kitty listened for the _bamf_ on the other side of the wall, but it didn't happen.

She screamed in pent-up rage and frustration, muffling her face in her pillow. How did that God-forsaken demon know all that?.! Crying in her anger, Kitty spent fifteen minutes calming down and getting back into character. She waited for her eyes and nose to go back to normal, then took her little case out into the hall, got ready, made sure nobody else was around, and called Avalanche.

"Avalanche, the White Gloves just got a call from the same client who called the Brotherhood. They're going to wipe out both our gangs by having us fight each other for the diamond and the money." Kitty said hurriedly, in hushed tones.

"What do you want me to do?" Avalanche asked.

"Get there early. Leave now, get there, steal the diamond, and get _out_ before the Gloves get there. They'll rip the Brotherhood to shreds." Kitty said.

"We need you there to lead us, Shadowcat, we can't fly without a leader." Avalanche said, sounding worried.

"Well, you're going to have to! You act as the leader, have Quicksilver act as the leader, hell, have _Toad_ act as the leader, I don't care!" Kitty snapped irritably. "Just get the diamond and get out before they get there. I promise I'll make it up to you rats somehow later."

"Shadowcat, wait!" Avalanche cried as Kitty hung up the phone, grumbling. She composed herself again as the rest of the Gloves appeared, ready for the mission. Kitty's eyes met Kurt's, and something dangerous flashed through the German man's eyes, but other than that he gave no indication of their encounter earlier.

"So how are we getting there?" Evan asked.

"We have to take a train, which leaves in thirty minutes from the Braddock Train Station. We'll get there in about two hours." Scott said, and Kitty cursed her luck in her mind. The Brotherhood were driving, and depending on traffic, they could get there in two and a half to three hours.

"Can't we drive?" Kitty asked.

"The train's faster and nicer, Kitty, plus we don't have to deal with traffic and it's more ecologically friendly." Scott said with finality, picking up his duffel and heading down to the garage. Kitty followed rather moodily, brain still whirring, trying to avoid this mess. She couldn't desert either of her gangs, but this was looking _really_ impossible.

XXX

At the run-down Brotherhood CC, Command Central, an old boarding house, Avalanche ordered everyone to the Jeep, including the Scarlet Witch, who did _not_ want to go, but she was their most powerful weapon. If the Glove Geeks were going to be there, they'd need her. They were on the highway in a few minutes, and since it was the middle of the day, there was really no traffic, so it was pretty much a clear shot to the California Museum of Fine Arts.

XXX

At the Braddock Train Station, Scott put the SUV in short-term parking and joined the rest of the Gloves down at the platform. Kurt was clinging to the shadows, Kitty was being uncharacteristically huffy on a bench far away from Kurt. Rogue and Evan were talking about what they'd do with their portions of the ten mil. The speakers above buzzed like cicadas in the still summer air. Scott looked down the platform both ways, seeing only track stretching far out of sight, riddled with the green spots of weeds. The covered platform, a weather-worn translucent corrugated plastic roof shielding it from the sun, was pretty busy. Seems like everybody wanted to get to San Francisco, where the Gloves were going. Scott thanked his lucky stars they didn't do metal detection on trains, or they would all be _majorly_ busted.

"S'cuse me, dears, I couldn't help but overhear your conversation. Are you planning to rob someplace?" A kind-faced woman in her fifties came over to Evan and Rogue, face creased in worry. Scott and Jean froze, and Kurt silently teleported away. Kitty pretended to look at her watch and not know them.

"It's jus' a game we play when we're bored wai'n' fer a train or a plane. Yanno, _What Would Ya Do Wiv Ten Mil?_ It's real fun." Rogue thought up quickly, smiling innocently. The woman looked convinced, and returned the smile.

"That's very clever of you. Sorry to bother you, I just couldn't help being the concerned citizen." The lady ambled off.

"_Oh, if only you knew,_" Kitty hissed under her breath, making Evan chuckle.

Suddenly, a garbled voice burst out of the speakers, catching everyone by surprise.

"The two o'clock train to San Francisco is running 45 minutes behind. We apologize for the delay."

Scott groaned and turned to Jean. "Now what?"

"There's really nothing we _can_ do; sorry, Scott." Jean said apologetically. Scott took her hand and squeezed it.

"You're right." In the shadows, Kurt bumped his head against the cool stone wall of the building, wishing he wasn't covered in fur in the stifling, still, sticky heat.

Rogue and Evan joined Kitty on the bench and chatted with her for a while, until she excused herself to go to the ladies' room. Inside the building, she found a pay phone and called Avalanche's cell.

"Y'ello?"

"Quicksilver?" Kitty asked confusedly and held the phone a few feet away from her face, as if Quicksilver could see her through the mouthpiece.

"Yup. Shadowcat? What 'cha up to?"

"Stuck at the Braddock Train Station, waiting with the Gloves for the train. It's 45 minutes late, so you guys had better not have traffic." Kitty said harshly.

"Nope, it's _smooth_ sailing, we're, like, half an hour early. Oh cool, we just passed a sign for Frisco; we're thirty miles out." Quicksilver said, and briefly Kitty heard the roar of wind whipping past the mic. on the cell phone.

"Great." Kitty said and hung up, feeling lighter than she had all day. The Brotherhood were over an hour ahead of the Gloves, which was good for the Brotherhood, but not so good for the Gloves. _Oh well,_ she shrugged to herself as she pushed open the door back to the platform, _the White Gloves are rich enough to cope without it._

"What'cha so happy 'bout, Kit?" Rogue asked.

"Mm, I dunno." Kitty said, smiling lightheartedly. The garbled voice came back over the loudspeakers.

"The two o'clock train to San Francisco is back on schedule, thank you for waiting."

The buzzing of the speakers returned.

Kitty's newly lightened heart turned to lead in her chest. There was no way the Brotherhood would be able to get there in time now. Traffic always appeared ten miles out from the 'burbs of Frisco, no matter the time of the day. A part of her mind supplied that, _hey, you're part of the Gloves too, you can't just always root for the Brotherhood, plus, any way you slice it, you're still getting a nice cut of the ten mil._

Another part of her mind said very negatively, _well, she's the _leader_ of the Brotherhood, which means they depend on her more than the Gloves do—they even replaced her with Kurt, so she could walk out on the Gloves and it wouldn't hurt them manpower-wise one bit._

The first part of her brain rebutted that by saying, _the Gloves are her friends! If she walked out on them, it would make everyone really sad; __it would totally hurt them emotion- and moral-wise!_

Kitty shut up the fight in her head and sat down one of the other benches, only to jump up and grab her bag as the bullet train whistled into the station and slid to a smooth stop in front of them, a gust of cool air rushing out at them as the doors opened. She couldn't keep herself from smiling: _thank God, some AC!_

Once situated in their private compartment and safely speeding towards San Francisco, ten million dollars, and possibly their deaths, Kitty felt oddly happy. Kurt glared moodily out his window, but as if he could feel her eyes on him, he turned. His lips twitched as he bared his teeth at her and let a low growl rumble from his chest. Kitty glared murderously back at him, earning an odd look from Rogue.

"Girl, ya really know how t' hold a grudge, eh?"

**Next time on _The White Gloves_: a vicious thief-gang war is sparked! Who will win? Who is the mastermind behind the plan? Tune in next week to find out!  
**


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